


Long Past Dawn

by kittymsmith, RavenIsaWrittingDesk



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Adult Humor, Angst, Cute, Drabble Collection, Drabbles, F/M, Fluffy, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymsmith/pseuds/kittymsmith, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenIsaWrittingDesk/pseuds/RavenIsaWrittingDesk
Summary: Octavio Silva never thought himself a committed man. That was until Loba Andrade walked into the arena. By the way she blew up Skull town, he knew she was the one.Series of Drabbles updated twice weekly.
Relationships: octane | Octavio Silva/Loba Andrade | Loba
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. Do you want me to leave?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somedays you just have to break. Hopefully someone is there to pick up the pieces along the way

Today was rough. Today was probably roughest day she'd had in her 34 years. Not only was today the day Mami and Papi were killed, but that bastard demônio had beaten her in the games. And teased her about it.

"Didn't your parents teach you any manners.?" "I have two kills over you, Mom and dad." "Thaaaank you loba." He mocked her. He mocked her. He mocked her! 

She got angry once more chucking her chardonnay at the wall, splintering the clear crystal bottle all over the ground, rose colored liquid staining her white carpet. Falling onto her knees she let out a scream that was so inhuman she barely recognized herself. She was alone. She lost everything, because of him. And yet he was alive while her parents lay in the ground. 

Her eyes tightly shut, her senses damped by her rage she didn't hear him. Octavio Silva, kneel down and pull her close. Shocked at first she just turned her face towards him, punching at his chest, screaming and finally calming down and allowing herself to just be held. His breath, his scent, it was everything she needed. 

"Want me to leave?" He said softly petting her hair, "No, never."


	2. I swear it won't happen again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Octane is the king of yeeting that which should not be yeeted.

Octavio was wide-eyed, hands still poised mid-throw. Loba was stood, still in her Games uniform, hands on her hips, sharp eyes on the floor. “I swear it won’t happen again,” he said, stumps moving like he was going to get up from the bed, come and assure her, actually pick up his own mess, before his brain caught up with reality, and he was left hanging on the edge. Loba crouched, picking up a piece of shattered mirror, tilting it so it reflected the faded orange of the string lights bordering her bedroom ceiling. She picked up another slice, and another, and then stood, looking at the glass, then turning to the mirror and its hollow inside. Octavio’s arms were getting tired from hanging in the air.

She tossed the shards into the trash, stared a long moment, and picked up the discarded legs with a certain grace that still enraptured Octavio whenever he bore witness to it and set them in a standing position to the side. She got a broom and a dustpan from her closet, and for some reason this surprised him, seeing her do anything that was like, normal. She had _people_ for everything like his folks did, like he had. He’d expected her to ring the maid, but she actually kept a broom in her room. She looked at him. “You can put your arms down, Octavio.”

He let them drop.

She swept up the broken mirror, tossed it in the trash, and then put the broom and dustpan back, pausing with the closet door open before bending and slowly unzipping her thigh-highs. He’d be popping a boner if he wasn’t still a little scared. He was mostly scared she wasn’t yelling. His Papi would have yelled, and any of his wives over the years. Ajay would have. He didn’t know what to do with no yelling.

“It won’t happen again,” she said suddenly, cracking the silence. She was just in her underwear and bra, delicate, and lace and more expensive than most peoples’ cars. “Because now you know better. Right?”

He bit the inside of his lip. “Uh, better than to chuck my legs off?”

“That’s right.” She turned slowly, crossing her arms under her breasts. “And I know better than to keep a mirror on your side of the bed.”

He perked up. _Like your rabbit,_ Ajay had once said. “My side?”

“Your side,” she reiterated, taking a long, graceful step toward him.

“This is my side?” He was grinning as she reached him and leaned forward, pressing his back into the plush comforter. “Damn _nena_ , what makes me so special?”

She tilted her head to the side and smiled, caressing his cheek, the tips of her nails scratching against his skin. “It’s your side of the bed,” she whispered, “because you’re going to be spending a lot of time on it, making up that mirror to me.”

Octavio had only one thought: _I should break more of her mirrors._


	3. I am NOT Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's definitely jealous

"I am NOT jealous!" Octavio stamped his metal foot in defiance. He was aware of three things right now, he was naked, annoyed, and most definitely jealous. But he couldn't dare let her know that. Loba the accuser of his jealousy, that definitely wasn't true, was standing in her costume from the Games without her pants so it looked more like lingerie.

She laughed at him from around her wine glass, she always enjoyed a glass of wine before her bedroom activities. She might not even get any bedroom activities if she keeps up teasing him over this untrue jealousy. "Octavio, just admit it, you're jealous of Jamie. You have absolutely no reason to be jealous of anyone Meu bem. Especially Jamie." 

Octavio looked away from her eye, those damn eyes of gold so much like the wolf she was named after. "I'm not jealous." He plopped down on her bed pouting. "Oh? So you normally pout when males are around?" He looked back at her and sighed, "He's older than me. He's your age." Loba raised her eyebrow, "So?" "So he has more leverage on me!" 

At that Loba laughed out loud walking over and settling herself in his lap kissing him, "Oh you are jealous, prove me wrong Octavio Silva." 

"I am not jealous!" He was definitely jealous. And he definitely attempted to prove her wrong.


	4. You Can't Keep Doing This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loba overdoes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the bottom :3
> 
> Tumblr @kittysmithwritesstuff

He never thought it wouldn’t be sexy to pull off a hot woman’s thigh-high leather boots, in her bedroom with what he’d consider mood lighting from soft glowing string lights, but it wasn’t. It was worrying because she was just _letting_ him. She wasn’t jokingly pulling it away, teasing him or flirting. She was laying limply on her back, eyes barely open. He chucked the boot to get a reaction and barely got a huff. “Those are my favorite,” she mumbled.

“You can’t keep doing this,” He said, chucking the other with more force, spite. She huffed louder.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Take off your own clothes, then.” She didn’t move. “See, you can’t. _Estúpida_.”

“Watch your tongue,” she warned.

“Or what, you’re gonna come and get me? You’re so tired you can’t get your ass out of bed. Can’t even sit up, I bet. Cause you’re _estúpida._ ”

“Get out,” she growled.

“No.” He came over to the side and got on the bed on his knees. She’d bitch and moan about the metal and the comforter and blah-blah-blah he didn’t care. He wanted her out of the jacket, at the very least. She’d been up, what, almost four days? Five? He could go on benders sure, but somewhere in there he’d crash for a couple hours. And he didn’t do that shit in pumps. He sat her up and started pulling her arm out of the jacket. “Just let me help you.”

“You hang around that Ajay bitch too much,” she grumbled, and he dug his nails into her arm, sort of not on purpose but also totally on purpose. She mumbled an apology, half slumped to the side as he finally got the jacket off, followed very quickly with the corset. He knew from Ajay’s bitching that even with it being loose laced or whatever that they weren’t good for long wear. He left on the chemise thingy she had underneath and let her fall back and pulled off her pants.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he repeated, staring at her, sprawled, exhausted, hollow. Makeup did nothing for the bags under her eyes.

“I just want,” she started, sighing deeply, “ _demônio_ …”

“I know, _nena_ , I know,” he said, surprising himself with the gentleness in his tone. Maybe he _was_ spending too much time with Ajay. “You want him dead. I want him dead. _Everybody_ wants him dead, him included. Hard just to see him every day. But you can’t do anything if you’re also dead.”

“Gimme some stim,” she suggested with tired jest. The lack of enunciation was sign enough that she’d been out way too long. Running to every source on Solace and otherwise, fueled by coffee and spite and hatred. When he’d first met her, Octavio would have thought she was too good for it, too smart and calculated, concerned with every detail to let herself go so far. _Guess we all go too far sometimes,_ he thought, glancing at his legs.

“That would literally kill you,” he said, and she whined. He laughed a bit and got her under the covers. He stepped away to pour a glass of water – she kept a pitcher and glass on her dresser because “hydration is very important for the skin and mind and blah, blah, blah”. When he got back, her eyes were closed. He picked her arm up and dropped it. Dead asleep.

He set down the water and brushed the stray hairs that had loosened from her braids out of her face. He bent and kissed her forehead. “Rest well, _nena._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Estupida - stupid, feminine form  
> demônio - Portuguese for demon  
> Nena - baby/babe, feminine form


	5. I'll take care of you, ok?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes in life, we have to let ourselves be taken care of. things happen out of our control.

Loba Andrade was pacing back and forth in her bathroom. For days now she had been scared since her breasts felt unusually tender with no signs of any menstrual cycling. In fact, she was nearly two weeks late on that. She was so, so tired, winded. Moody is what Octavio had jokingly called her last night at dinner. Not long after she smashed a vase in an attempt to prove him wrong. Plot twist it only turned him on. 

Now she was pacing in front of the toilet waiting on a little stick to decide her fate. The two of them had a wonderful private life. Perhaps too wonderful..they wore protection, right? Every time? Or had there been a few slip-ups? Did she forget a pill one morning? Did they just fail them? All these questions raced through her mind as she waited for the time to pass on the little life-changing stick. 

She picked it up finally and seen a little pink line appear than another. Loba Andrade daughter of Marcos and Alanza was pregnant. By Octavio Silva..the press will love this. But...Oh, Deus. What would Octavio think? Just as she mentioned the other Legend her apartment door opened and the sound of metal footsteps rang through the air. 

"Loba? ¿Mi amora? ¿Dónde estás? ¿Hola?" 

"I'm coming Meu amor." She hesitantly picked up the stick and walked out into the living room where he stood. "Hola mi amora- " The stupid grin on his face broke when he saw the object in her hand, his eyes trailed up to her face, trembling and tear-stained. 

Going over to her he pulled her close, "Oh Senorita," He kissed her, "I'm going to take care of you, ok?" He looked at her face to see the relief. He knelt down kissing her abdomen, "Both of you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deus means God  
> Meu amor means my love  
> ¿Mi amora? ¿Dónde estás? ¿Hola? means My love? Where are you? Hello?


	6. You can't die. Please don't die.

“You can’t…you can’t…”

Right, he couldn’t make pancakes. He didn’t have any legs. You need legs to make pancakes-and now he had some, and he could make them. Except he was naked, so he stopped to put on pants. It was at that point Octavio realized he was dreaming, not because he was looking down and seeing his flesh legs again, but because he was putting on pants. What the hell, right?

“You can’t die. Please don’t die…don’t…Papai…”

Wait, that meant the talking wasn’t in his head, it was someone else. The dream snapped off like a television screen and he slowly opened his eyes to darkness and realized someone was shifting in bed. Loba. He’d come over for, well, what he always came over for. He propped himself up on an elbow, rubbing his eyes, listening. Slightly muffled noises, a sharp inhale-and then a quiet sob. “Papai, P-Papai, no…”

 _Oh shit,_ he thought, turning towards her. She was shaking, whimpering. He tried to remember what Ajay said about nightmares or night terrors. You weren’t actually supposed to wake people up. She whimpered again. Then, saving him from doing it anyway because he couldn’t stand the sound, she shook, and sat up slightly, looking around wildly. Her hair was a mess of waves, barely shadow as his eyes adjusted to darkness. He touched her shoulder and felt her tense. “Go back to sleep, Octavio.”

“No,” he said.

“ _Teimoso_ ,” she muttered. He slid his hand down to her hip, rubbing with his thumb. “ _Praga_.”

“ _Si. Siempre_.” She chuckled, just slightly. “You need a walk?”

There was a pause and then he felt her move, his hand brushing over her belly as she turned over, then slide over her hip as she moved towards him until they were pressed together. She kissed him, his eyes having adjust enough to see the slight smile on her lips, and then he felt her warm breath at his neck when she snuggled close, kissing softly, once, twice, and then settling with an arm over him. “Not tonight,” she whispered.

Octavio relaxed and carefully started petting her head, listening as her breathing slowed, and steadied, for once being pretty okay with not being able to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teimoso - stubborn  
> Praga - pest  
> Siempre - always (/forever)


	7. You did what!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Great, now Octavio has to wear pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the bottom!

"You did what?!" 

"Wait you did what?!" Octavio's eyes were wide. 

"I invited your parents to dinner."

" Why would you do that! They hate each other." 

"But they both want to meet their son's new fiancee." Loba stood up from her vanity, the tight red dress she wore left nothing to the imagination. Good, Octavio wasn't known for being all that imaginative. 

But, his parents divorced when he was six. They ran the company together but otherwise, they never spoke. Ever. The last time they had was at his High School graduation, and it ended up with their bickering being louder than the principal calling the names. And Loba had invited them for dinner. Together. In his apartment. His parents. God be with their souls. 

"You're being rash, Tavi. They're excited to come and I informed them the other was coming." Octane's jaw was on the ground. He hadn't seen his parents together in a long time. And now his girlfriend of only a few months somehow convinced them both to sit down and enjoy dinner together with them. He didn't know if he was annoyed anymore or oddly turned on. Maybe both. Yeah, both. She walked over wrapping her arms around his shoulders, "Não se preocupe meu amor."

The way she whispered it. Her scent, her touch. He loved this woman but he wasn't going to dare admit it yet. 

He would have relished the moment a bit longer if he hadn't remembered one thing; his parents coming over meant he had to wear pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Não se preocupe meu amor= Don't worry my love


	8. Were you ever going to tell me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octane suffers an accident in the ring.

“We’re you ever going to tell me?”

Octavio moved his eyes until he was looking at her, standing over his bed with her hands clasped on that dumb cane she didn’t even need. The heart monitor beeped steadily in the background. “No.”

Her grip tightened. “Why not?”

He looked away.

“Octavio?” If he looked at that wall long enough, she’d stop asking. She’d walk out and they could forget about it and fuck it out later. He’d get the expensive wine she really liked, that’d gotten him out of more than one transgression in the last few months. But of _course,_ she would throw all of that to shit with that tone, the way she said it, “ _Octavio_.” That little crack on “oc”. The strain that she tried to deny by clearing her throat. He’d never heard it before and it made him actually feel _guilty_.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he confessed.

“What?” He looked at her, seeing her sit on the chair by his bed. Ajay had been there before she came in. She was probably still at the door, listening in.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

Her frown turned into a hard line. “You overdosed, Octavio. Everyone is talking about it.”

He cursed. “Ajay was supposed to keep it quiet.”

“She did. The guy repairing your dialysis machine, however.”

“Fuckin’ Rick, man.”

“How did you not notice it was broken?” She reclined in the chair. He felt the desire to reach out and hold her hand, but resisted because, shit, that was getting in too deep. This was supposed to be fun. That’s what they’d agreed-fun for fun’s sake, FWB, fuckbuddies. Stress relievers. You didn’t want to hold hands with a stress reliever. Stress relievers didn’t visit you in the hospital when you were fucking stupid. _Estoy jodido._

“I wasn’t having a heart attack, so I just kept going. Uh, until I did have a heart attack.”

“You’re crazy.”

“You know that.”

“I do.” And that’s when she took his hand, and Octavio’s heart monitor started beeping a little faster. She looked at it, then at him, and smiled just slightly. He felt himself start blushing. “When do you get out?”

Her hands were soft. He’d never taken the time to think about it before. “Two days. The whole medical guru bullshit in the ring should prevent any, ah, permanent damage…I’d be out sooner but, uh, Ajay took my legs.”

“I noticed. Smart and beautiful.” She smirked.

Octane made a face. “Please don’t fuck my friend.”

She laughed, high and sweet, hand relaxing into his, and gave him a side glance. “No promises…unless you want to make another agreement.”

He raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“This.” She gestured between them. “That it’s…more than just for fun.” She sounded almost shy. That was new. And cute.

Taking a tip from the old rom-coms his fourth stepmother used to make him watch, he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her knuckles. “Yeah…I can dig that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Estoy jodido - I'm screwed/I'm fucked.


	9. Don't ask me that!

"Don't ask me that!" Loba crossed her arms over her chest. Octavio blinked, lying against her feather-soft mattress, his legs discarded to the side gently. "Senora all I asked was how many partners you have had. You asked me the same thing. "

She huffed, Octavio was more confused. He had easily admitted to her that he has, had several partners in the past. However not many were relational. He had only been in one other relationship prior to Loba. And that was at St. Mark's Catholic Academy, that was a wild time. What was her name again? Marcella? Yeah, that was her. Marcella Evans. Her Papi owned an oil company. Si, that was her.

"I know but..." She sighed sitting on the bed gracefully. Loba never flopped, or plopped, or..or any of those things! She was always poised and posed. Like a beautiful peacock. “You’re so much more experienced than I am and..I’m the older one! I should be more experienced!” She huffed. And there it was, the elephant in the room. She was jealous because he’s had more partners than her. Wait, he’s had more partners than her? “Mi Querido how many..?”   
“Two,” She mumbled,”I’ve only ever been with two in that sort of way.” He paused taking her hand, “Mi Amor, I love that fact, it tells me you are willing to be steady and actually formulate a relationship with me,” He paused, “And, I think you are just the person I want to stop at.” She looked at him, tears in her eyes.   
“Really?”   
“Really.”


	10. I might have had a few shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol + Octavio = a legal liability

Octavio had a rope looped through the open heel of his legs and tied around the Paradise Lounge’s massive ceiling fan. As he was swung around at a stroll-in-the-park pace, a menagerie of fans, bar regulars and other Legends cheered him on from about twenty feet below while he talked in rapid Spanish, like a football announcer. When Loba came upon the scene, Renee was the first to notice her. Typically, they all would notice her simultaneously, but it seemed alcohol could outshine even her ability to take over a room. Or perhaps Octavio really was her match in that department.

“How long has he been up there?” She asked, sitting beside the resident void specialist. A mojito appeared at her elbow almost automatically. Elliott was well trained.

“About ten minutes. Going for a world record or something.” Renee swirled her appletini around.

“He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“But he’s your idiot, right?” Elliott tried to joke, shrinking when she turned to look at him. “I went to the bathroom for five minutes and came out and he was like that! Please don’t stab me with your cane.”

She smiled slowly. “Don’t worry, beautiful, only if you ask nicely.” He looked sufficiently concerned. She took herself and her mojito to the crowd, looking up.

“Nena! Eeeeeeeeeey!” Octavio grinned widely and blew her a kiss. “Can you make this go any faster?”

“What are you doing up there?”

“I might have had a few shots,” he said, crossing his arms behind his head, like he was lounging on the beach. _Idiota._ She went to Renee again.

“Think you can cut that rope?”

Renee inclined her head and a portal appeared beside her. Loba positioned herself at the appropriate angle as the other end of the portal appeared in the air, and Renee’s arm came through and sliced the rope. Octavio fell with a yelp and landed in Loba’s arms. He threw his arms around her shoulders, seeming to take in his new surroundings, and pouted at her. “Awww, _nenaaaaa_! You’re no fun!”

She smiled. “Somebody has to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nena - baby  
> Idiota - idiot


	11. What's in the box?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A large mysterious box had peaked loba's attention

Loba was sitting in her and Octavio's shared penthouse reading a book when her boyfriend walked in...carry a giant box. At first she didn't pay him much mind, being the son of two billionaires Octavio was constantly buying random things. Last week was a shark tank, a whole 50 thousand gallon shark tank. She had no idea why his parents allowed such purchases to come out of his fund, she guessed they probably hardly even looked at what he bought. This box however was not big enough to be a shark tank.

However, he began banging it around her, dropping hints, being annoying. Until she sighed.

"Fine, Octavio, What's in the box?"

He plopped it in her lap, "Open it."

Slightly annoyed but also amused she slit the tape open with her nails. Inside was...another box? Curious she opened it, another box. And another. And another. each one smaller than the next until she opened a palm-sized box.

But before she could open that one, however, Octavio snatched it up and was on his knees. "Octavio-" she stopped eyes-widening, "Tavi.."

"Loba? will you-" Before he could finish the sentence she pulled him up from the ground and kissed him.

"Yes."


	12. Say It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavio Wins

“Say it.”

She stared at him, breathing heavily through her nose.

“Say it, you gotta.”

She swallowed, almost choking.

“Say it, or I win.”

She whined, then huffed, fists clenched in determination. “Chuh…chubbf,” half the marshmallows spilled out of her mouth into her hands, and she let out a frustrated scream that was muffled by the rest of the marshmallows. Octavio fell back on the pillows laughing, half choking down his own marshmallows. “Stuhpid,” she grumbled, trashing the marshmallows, “liuhl,” she went to the bathroom, the sound of wet sugar puffs hitting the trashcan lining, the sink running, shouting, “bastard!”

“Sore loser, chica,” he said smugly, folding his arms behind his head.

“Idiota. I don’t even know why I agreed to that. Pah,” she stuck out her tongue, eyeing him. “You’re not really going to-“

“Oh yeah, one hundred percent.”

Her shoulders fell and she flung her head back with a dramatic groan. “I can’t believe you.”

“You agreed to the terms, I’m just collecting my reward,” he grinned, spreading his arms wide, as if he’d just presented her a gift. She glared and turned on the TV as she passed by, then clapped her hands, all lights turning off. He watched her feel her way to the bed and slipped off his legs before extending his arm. She slipped right into him and rested her head on his chest. One arm around her, playing with her hair, the other using the remote to flip through to the prize.

“10 Things I Hate About You. I can think of a few right now,” Loba mumbled. “I hate romcoms.”

“And I hate sad movies.”

“I didn’t think you’d cry at Bridge to Terabithia.”

“You have no soul.” He kissed her cheek. “But I still love you.”

She huffed. “Love you too… _idiota._ ”


	13. I could kiss you

I could kiss you right now!

Oh no. She had said it. Loba had gotten so caught up in their last win she confessed to Octavio she could kiss him right now. So far that same Octavio was stunned silence. Because after that statement she had to follow up because he dared her too. He said she wouldn't so she did. What made this all worse? Ocavtio's friend Ajay was standing with them Cameras were still rolling. everyone saw. Everyone knew. But that wasn't her main priority right now. right now she had to get her boyfriend unfrozen. 

"Tavi?" 

"Yah broke him!" Ajay laughed, 

"I didn't mean to! I mean it was an expression! I-" 

With barely another word Octavio Silva grabbed her in a quick dip and kisses her long and hard. 

"Chica, I could kiss you too."


	14. Are you done with that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loba's done with Octavio

_Tappa-tappa-tappa._

“I swear to God,” Loba said, and the tapping stopped. Slowly it started again, and she started thinking about her least favorite pantyhose and how easy it would be to wring his neck with them. She glared over the rim of her book. Octavio, sans metal legs, was sitting upside down on the couch and wiggling his stumps, tapping the glass coffee table. He didn’t stop till she cleared her throat. She glared at him a moment longer, then went back to the book. Not two minutes later; _tappa-tappa-tappa_. She slammed down the book. “Octavio!”

“Are you done with that?” He gestured flippantly. Did he not see she was angry? Or did he not care?

“Be _quiet._ ”

“But that’s so _boooring._ ”

“You are such a child.” She huffed.

“Hey, chica, I’d be just fine running a mile while you do your thing, but I kinda need something to do that.” He gestured like she was blind.

“Well maybe start apologizing to Ajay.”

“What? No way! I didn’t even take her dumb hot pockets, I hate the ham and cheese ones. Tastes like feet.”

“Is that a kink I need to write down?”

“Shut up.” He started tapping again, and Loba gave up, taking out her phone.

“Hello?” Ajay said.

“Please,” Loba said, “please give him his legs back.”

“Not till I get an apology.”

“Please, Ajay, I will buy you whatever factory makes hot pockets, I don’t care, just please, _please_ bring his legs.”

“Loba, no.”

“ _He won’t stop tapping things._ ”

There was a pause, then a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll bring them over.”

Octane smirked and soon as the call had ended and Loba threw the book at him, literally.


	15. Are you still awake..?

"Tavi?" 

A quivering voice woke Octavio from his sleep. He laid there, silent to make sure he wasn't dreaming. 

"Are you still awake?" Nope. Was not a dream. It was his girlfriend. He quickly turned over in the dark, "Si?" 

"What if...I'm not a good mom?" Octavio sighed, not this conversation again. 

"Mi querio, you'll be the perfecto Mami." 

"Why?"

"why not?" 

She sighed, turning away from him. "I never had one." 

"Loba. You had a Mami. You lost her but...well...I didn't have the parents. So...I know how not to be like them. you're beautiful and smart and... and...I'm here with you." 

She paused, turning back towards him, the silk sheets between them rustling slightly as she moved in closer to him. Slowly he felt a hand brush his. 

"I cannot think of a better person to be my baby's Papi." 

"Ditto." 

she groaned, "You did not just say ditto." 

So, maybe he wasn't completely ready to be a dad...But he had a few months to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mi querio means my dear


	16. Excuse you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sass sass sass sass sass

Loba walked along the hall a few days after joining the Games. She was still scoping out the dropship, learning the nooks and crannies and disguising it all as a walk to the gym. She wanted to know where all the cameras were, any guards (a surprisingly low amount for a ship full of people who murdered for entertainment), security systems and, most importantly, where any valuables might be kept.

She half waved to Mirage and Octane as she passed by them. “-than a snicker.” Hit her ear and she paused, turning on her heel. Mirage immediately shrunk in on himself, wedging between the wall and a couple cargo crates. A little mouse who knew his place. Octane, on the other hand, stood normally, nonchalantly, unbothered. Which meant she was bothered greatly. “Excuse me?”

“Excuse you,” Octane replied.

Mirage whacked his arm. “Shut up, man!”

“What?” Octane responded dumbly.

Loba carefully placed her hands on her hips. “Were you talking about me?”

“Yup.” Octane said, Mirage hitting him again, eyes wide as dinner plates. How cute.

“What did you say?”

He looked her in the eye, and she couldn’t help but notice his were hazel colored. Turned to the light, they probably shone like sea glass. “I said you were thicker than a snicker.”

She blinked cause, well, that-

That was a new one.

Mirage looked like he had already accepted death. Normally Loba would have given it to him, or at least a version, and a much harsher one to Octane. Men who thought they could say whatever and do whatever, told her to _smile more_ -they deserved the sharp end of her cane. But something about Octane was different. It lacked the malicious intent, the sense of superiority, kingliness. He was grinning at her, hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, posture slack, feet placed apart. An imp, she decided. He just wanted a reaction.

She sauntered over to him, stopped, a little too close for comfort. His grin didn’t falter. She pointed at him, nail to his nose. “I’m keeping an eye on you, _amigo._ ”

“Promise?”

She narrowed her eyes, stepped away, and turned.

She was definitely keeping an eye on that one.


	17. This is your fault!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what has Octavio done this time?

Octavio Silva watched as his girlfriend threw out yet another dress. “Why do none of these fit anymore!” She growled from the closet. Octavio wanted to say maybe it was the large pizza and breadsticks she ate all on her own last night or the ice cream this morning. 

Had he trashed his girlfriend’s diet? He totally had. 

“This is all your fault!” She threw a ballet flat at him. He blinked mutely for a moment, “What is my fault, chica?”

“I’m....I’m....thick because of you!” 

Octavio laughed and stood making his way over to the irate woman. “Ah naw chica,” he kissed her under her neck.”You have been thick long before me.” 

She pushed him away, her sharp graceful nose pointed towards the sky. The way she walked, the way she swayed her hips, she knew exactly what she was given. 

“Well, I do enjoy your appreciation bebê,” Her voice muffled in the tight walls. “But tomorrow we're going to start dieting Monday.” 

Ah great.


	18. I shouldn't be in love with you

Octavio Silva ate fast and terribly. He jackrabbited around the gym and his apartment like he’d die if he stopped moving for a single second. He would step into the city and race the cars, graffiti the back alleys, make terrible bets with strangers and drink his way from one end of Solace City to the next. His place was messy at best and a catastrophe at worst because cleaning was _boring_ and so was remembering to pay the maid, evidently.

He was selfish, oblivious, at times impatient, irritating, pushing every button he could as long as he could. He took risks too large for results too small. And sometimes he was just a plain _idiota._

“I shouldn’t be in love with you,” Loba said aloud, without thinking, back at her apartment. He’d gotten into a bar fight with men three times his size, cuts and lacerations, a black eye. He was on the couch, shirtless, and she the coffee table, feet on either side of his hips, cleaning the cuts with peroxide while he bitched. Normally he seemed to ignore her when she complained about his stunts, but he sat up so quickly she almost fell over, catching herself on his shoulder. He grabbed her arm, eyes wide.

“You’re in love with me?” He said. It was the first time she heard him sound stunned.

Neither moved. For all her flirting, Loba was not exactly experienced with relationships. She’d gone on fun little dates, sure, a couple kisses. But before Octavio, she’d slept with two people, both of whom she was in long-term relationships with. She’d loved both of them. And, evidently, whether she’d known it or not before that moment, she loved this one too. She slid her hand to his cheek, his head leaning into it, hand over hers, still staring, eyes of pretty hazel sea glass darting over her face. “I do,” she said.

He swallowed, turning his lips to her palm and pressing a kiss. He was quiet. Actually quiet.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sit this still,” she teased, too nervous to do anything else.

She felt him smile against her palm, breath warm as he spoke. “I don’t think my hearts ever beat this fast.”

“Mine either,” she replied. She spread her thumb out, ghosting over the black eye. “Please find your kicks somewhere else. You scared me.”

“I will. Promise.” He kissed her palm again, then held it to his cheek. “Loba?”

“Yes?”

“ _Yo también te amo._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo también te amo - I love you, too


	19. I could kill you right now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tap.tap.tap.

Tap.tap. tap.

“Octavio Silva, will you please stop that.” 

Tap. tap.tap.   
“Octavio.” 

Tap. tap .tap. 

“That does it.” 

Loba Andrade stood up with hands-on her bare hips glaring at her equally naked boyfriend. The AC in their penthouse had gone out in the middle of one of the hottest days in Solace history. And it was hot. However, Octavio had found amusement in tapping ice cubes to the fan cover. 

“What Chica? It makes the cold air hit my face! Watch.” Tap. tap. Tap-   
She took it. Bowl and all away. “Octavio, I could kill you right now.” 

“But you won’t.” He grinned.

Sighing she plopped down on the couch, “No, estúpido, I won't.” 

He grinned laying back against the couch, “At least not until the Ac is back on.” 

“I’ll take it.”


	20. Just admit I'm right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noodles

“There is no way that bird likes noodles.”

“He does! He like, looooves them.” Octavio was running on the treadmill at literally the highest possible speed while Loba leaned against the treadmill adjacent to it, sipping from her water bottle.

“It’s a bird. He likes rats, or something.”

“Just admit I’m right.”

“No, because you are not.”

The treadmill suddenly screeched to a stop – Octavio had overheated it again- and he ran straight into the LCD display, knocking the wind out of himself and falling back, gasping. She leaned over to make sure he was alright, though it was far more of a languid movement than most would do when their significant other got yeeted by a treadmill. Octavio did this to himself almost every day, though, and like Ajay she’d developed a coating of apathy around his regular…stunts. “You’re…mean,” he huffed.

“You’re a danger to yourself and others,” she said, helping him up. He shook it off and glanced as Bloodhound came into the gym. They were in almost their full gear they wore for the Games, raven perching on the lat pull down before they got there.

Octavio grabbed her hand and pulled her over. “I’ll prove it to you -yo, Hound!”

“Ah, greetings, _felagi_.” They said.

“Loba doesn’t believe that Artur likes noodles.”

They made a hmm noise, cocking their head to the side. “He loves them.”

She shook her head. “I just can’t believe it.”

In response, Bloodhound pulled a small Tupperware of noodles out of one of their pockets, something that made Loba feel many confusing emotions, and then popped the lid. Artur appeared on their shoulder in an instant, like a cat, and started eagerly bouncing and making some sort of deep-throated “bah, bah, bah!” noise. They pulled out a long spaghetti noodle and Artur affectionately chewed on the leather cap underneath their headdress and then grabbed it and perched back at the top of the machine.

Loba crossed her arms and tried not to smile at the delighted triumph on Octavio’s face. “Fine, you’re right.”


	21. That doesn't make any sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never question loba about shoes.

“But Octavio! I have to have them!” 

Octavio Silva had made the mistake of taking his girlfriend shopping at the Angel City Mall. The place was crawling with social elites with purses that cost more than some people's homes and little dogs inside. Was that his Mamá over there? Oh boy. 

Quickly ducking back into the shoe store he watched as Loba picked out her shoes. All heels, of course, she hated flats. Octavio told her she was going to destroy her arches but she just shrugged it off. 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” He admonished, “They’re just shoes.” 

That did it. 

“Just shoes?! JUST Shoes?! These are Hoton Emera's limited edition purple bottom heels. There's only five made and-” She kept going, and going and going. Octavio sighed, with the hope in his heart that soon they would make it to the food court.


	22. That's Irrational

“That’s irrational.” That’s what Papi had said to him when he was afraid of the dark, age six. It was the last time he tried to get into his parents’ bed. He went to the nanny after that. When he got too old for that, in the summer he’d have his window wide open so the moonlight would fill the room. If it was cloudy, or in winter, he’d turn on his lamp and crawl under the sheets to dampen the harsh artificial light and have it open just enough to breathe. He stole a nightlight from the dollar store when he and Ajay skipped school, aged eleven. He would wake up when the sun came out, unplug and hide it, and then go back to bed.

“What kind of coward are you?” Papi half-shouted, holding up the Boku no Hīrō Akademia night light Ajay had gotten him as an 18th birthday present. She was the only one to get him anything.

“I just like the ambient light, amigo, chill.”

“Mijo,” Papi said, tone grating-he hated when Octavio called him _amigo._ “You are behaving like a mouse, when you should act like a man!”

He looked him in the eye. “Lo siento, I’ve never met any men.”

He was on Ajay’s couch within the hour, and his own place within a week. He lived off of sponsorships and ad revenue and an allowance from his parents until the whole grenade incident. Then he also lived off of Apex sponsorships. He fought hard during the day and partied hard at night. Somehow he found a relationship along the way-so, well, there were some nights with less parties and more movies or bank heists, depending on Loba’s mood. Loba slept with her window open, letting in the Solace moon. But then it was cloudy, and it became pitch black.

He said nothing, tried to think of light or close his eyes, but without any ambient illumination he started to shiver. Loba was on it immediately. “Octavio?”

“Si?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re shaking like a leaf.”

He paused. “It’s stupid.”

“Octavio.”

The lamp flicked on and he relaxed, sighing. He still didn’t look at her. “Nothing it’s just…I hate the dark.”

“Oh, amado,” she said gently, and he pulled the pillow over his head. She kissed the back of his shoulder, then he heard her messing around in a drawer. He slowly lowered the pillow and looked over, stunned to see what almost looked like the head of her cane, except bigger, with a plug attached to it. She leaned over the bed and he sat up to watch her plug it into the wall and turn off the lamp. The room was filled with a faint orange glow. When she looked back at him, she smiled.

“You have a nightlight,” he said.

“Your observational skills have always been something I admired, meu bem.”

“I thought I was just weird.”

“Darkness hides danger,” she half shrugged. “I don’t like it much either. That’s why I have the window open.

“Me too!” He said, a little too excited. She chuckled and kissed him.

“Te amo, Octavio.”

He grinned, stupidly wide and stupidly bright. “Te amo, nena.”


	23. Please be my date!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavio needs a date to meet his parents

“Please! Just for a little while!” Loba Andrade looked at Octavio. He was on his hands and knees begging her in the dropship. 

“You want me to go to your parents and pretend to be your girlfriend?” 

“Si! So they’ll get off my back about being single!” 

“And,” She paused. “What is in it for me?” 

“You get to go to a very rich party, full of snobs waiting to be pick pocketed. And there's really good food!” 

She sighed, she did like, pickpocketing, rich parties and really good food. Also she was free on Saturday. Not to mention...he was kind of cute while he begged. She had heard rumors about the Silva Heir. Aloof would be a word for it. Not sticking to one girl or guy very long. She could change that. If she wanted. 

“Alright Octavio, I’ll be your date.” 

“Yip Yeah!” He shouted standing. “Thank you thank you thank you-”   
“On one condition.”  
“Anything!” 

“We go on a real date.” 

He paused for once in his life, “O..Of course.” 

“Then it's a date.”


	24. Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?

She’d met him at a club, not on purpose, by coincidence. She wasn’t much into the _scene_ but sometimes she liked to get out a pair of low pants and a crop top, usually with Jaime and any of his friends. This time she was alone, Jaime had to call out to help his sister move, but Loba never let herself be all dressed up with nowhere to go. She liked dancing, and she liked good drinks, and this place had both.

And, as she’d found out, it also had Octavio Silva, wearing booty shorts and a black crop top with a winking emoji on it. His legs had a shell over the metal that gave them a more “leg” shape and painted over with a renaissance style rendition of the entire Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cast. When he saw her his eyes widened and his brows shot straight up. She rolled her eyes.

“Hola, amiga.” He said, and that was it. She’d expected some sort of perverted comment-it was one thing to call her sexy, it was another to say what you were going to do with her. Octavio had said neither and she was pleasantly surprised.

“Hello,” she replied.

“You like to party too, huh? I dig that.”

She raised her eyebrow, not able to help the smile. “Sometimes. Let me guess, you live here?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Sometimes! I’ve woken up in the lounge, like, a lot.”

A laughed puffed out of her nose and she looked up at the drink menu above the bar. “Well, Speedy, you know what’s good?”

He pointed to something neon green, and against her better judgment, she bought it. One sip made her veins tingle, and another sent her to a different dimension, in which she looked at Octavio Silva and asked if he wanted to dance. He did. And another add on to the pile of surprises was that he was pretty good at it-granted they were both somewhat intoxicated so it was mostly rhythmically wiggling with the rest of the floor, but it felt a hell of a lot better than it looked.

They passed time between the bar and the dance floor, Loba coming to really enjoy herself as time went on, dipping into giggling conversation at the bar, mostly about the Games. But it was still fun, he talked fast and loud, but she liked that. Octavio came off as a bit of an idiot, and honestly, he was, but if he loved something, he was _smart._ He was drunk and rattling off advanced aerodynamic math that he had to recalculate for some stunt involving a shark and a unicycle, for Gods sake. Eventually, her phone rang, and she remembered she needed to get home, she had a game tomorrow, and several meetings with important people. She finished her drink and sent her driver a text. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you really gonna leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” He smiled as coyly as one could when they had three cocktails and the body mass of a squirrel.

She paused, narrowing her eyes, maybe leaning a little too far. “What is that?”

He grinned. “When our next date is.”

She raised her eyebrows and bit the inside of her cheek against the grin pulling at her lips. It came out as a smirk. She simply chuckled and slipped him a business card on her way by, not looking back while imagining the grin. Loba wasn’t going to ask the question because she already knew the answer: _soon as possible._


	25. When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love is love

Loba Andrade sighed as she scrolled through the internet. All it seemed to be was pages and pages of articles ridiculing her and Octavio. 

‘She's too old for him.’ 

‘He’s a playboy.’ 

`She just wants his parent’s money.’

It was true in part. She was much older than Octavio. But as far as his parent’s money, she had her own. Sure she loved shiny things and prestigious affairs. At times she did feel like the main character from Pretty Woman. Where the prostitute is taken in by the millionaire. Minus the prostitute part, she’d only had three partners in her life and none of those were in exchange for money. 

Still. Their judgments hurt. They only got worse when paparazzi found out she had gotten pregnant. That was just another one of her schemes at securing money from the family. Then there were the ones that wrote the angry letters because they weren’t married. It didn’t seem to bother Octavio, but boy did it get to her. Perhaps it's because most of the attacks were to her person. 

She stood, walking around their penthouse overlooking the city of Crotopus. Octavio was out doing some sponsor dinner for Hammond. She was invited to go, but felt uncomfortable taking Angel out just yet. Peering into the crib she saw her son sleeping. Words would never express what he meant to her. He was the heir to the Silva empire like his father, born into a family of billionaires. But none of that mattered to him. Loba prayed she could keep him humble. Keep him safe. 

Glancing just above their sleeping child she found a note, scribbled quickly and unevenly. Tavi had left her a note pinned above their child's head. At least it wasn’t on his head his time. 

Dear Loba,   
“When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!” Love, O. 

She didn’t know why, or how he knew she would need this. But...He was right. No matter what people said, they knew what their lives were. They knew their reasons. It didn’t matter. 

Love is Love.


	26. That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant

“Lets go sailing,” Loba said to Octane offhandedly during a match. “Something new to try.”

Octavio had stopped mid-looting Ajay’s deathbox. “Oh hell yeah! I love sailing! I used to go all the time.”

“Really?” She thought that sort of funny. Sailing was always something she’d considered kind of relaxing. Octane probably put jet boosters on the boat or a giant fan or something. Wasn’t exactly her mode of sailing, but she’d take it.

“Hell yeah. Hey I know a guy, I can set it up for this weekend.”

“Sounds good.” She patted his shoulder as she walked past. “Now come on, I hear gunshots.”

“Oooooh, trouble!” He stimmed and leaped ahead of her. She smiled, casually throwing her jump drive. Now she had something fun to look forward to.

She’d been very confused when they started up the winding mountain road, but it was when they reached the peak that she shouted, “that is almost exactly the opposite of what I meant! Exact opposite, actually!”

Octane looked confused. “What do you mean? You said you wanted to go sailing!”

“This isn’t sailing, Tavi, this is _hang gliding!_ ”

He got out of the car, stretching. “No, this is parasailing.”

“ _Idiota!_ Parasailing is when you have, the, the-oh _cabrão_ , the parachute behind the boat!”

“What? Then what’s the thing with the plane and parachutes?”

“Parachuting?!”

“Oh yeah! Oh well, this is probably more exciting, right?”

“Terrifying, yes.”

“What? You jump out of the dropship every day.”

“I have a jumpkit so if I fall I don’t _die_.”

“I know, it’s so boring, right?” He smiled, like an imp, hands over his head and swaying side to side. She glared. He came back to the car, leaning through the open drivers side window. She glared harder. “C’mon, babe. I’ll keep you close.” She shook her head. He rolled his eyes, smiling still. “Fine, how about if you go and you don’t like it then I’ll finally watch those old Phantasm movies with you.”

She paused, then leaned over the enter consol and held out her pinky. “Pinky promise?”

He hooked his with hers. “Pinky promise.”

That was all it took. The guy Octavio knew reeked of weed but knew what he was talking about, and soon they were strapped in, and then far _too_ soon they were diving off the cliff. And she would hate to admit it later, because she _really_ wanted him to watch the movies with her, but he had been completely right: she loved it.


	27. I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you have to jusy let people live.

All his life Octavio had been judged. On his behavior, his hair, his likes, his well, everything. He always apologized to his parents. 

"Sorry for staying out so late." 

"Sorry I wrecked the limo again." 

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

"Sorry for existing." 

He had shouted that one night in the hospital. His father had fallen Ill, he was fine now. He got lost hailing a taxi. His sisters fussed on him. He was the brother. He was supposed to be there for them. While their dad was sick they decided to make him feel like shit. Again. He apologized. 

Now, he had Loba. Did his sisters approve? No. Did his parents approve? Eh. Kinda. 

His response? ''I’m not going to apologize for this. Not anymore.''


	28. I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again

Octavio was not good at holding back. He was all forward and push, pull and press. Rush and blabber. When he was sixteen he’d visited Solace with Ajay on one of her family vacations and they’d gone to the beach outside Angel City, where the water was black and violent, rolling over and curling into the sand without hesitation or pause. He’d decided that was the moment he stopped holding back-he’d never really done it before, but then is when he _really_ let his strings loose, started his career as an influencer. Rolled like a great black wave and crashed into the sand, again, and again, and again.

Loba had not tried to stop him. She’d not asked him to _slow down_ , to hold back. She just steered him in a different direction-the energy he spent bar hopping purely to fight people twice his size? Why not use it to tag as many walls as possible while outrunning the cops? Eventually tags leading to art, sharp geometric shapes and groovy lines, spray paint wielded like Jackson Pollock’s brush. Need to burn off steam? See how many cuss words he could write using that app that drew a line along your running route. Have trouble sitting still? Parkour his way from his apartment to hers, from hers to the coffee shop, take as many illegal crossings as possible.

Usually the coffee was all over the place when he got back, but he would be grinning, and Loba would congratulate him on making a new time. She would congratulate him on finding a new street combination to write “pendejo” through the city. She liked all of his pictures of him laying in front of his latest tag or abstract artwork, and left comments with hearts and eggplants. Octavio didn’t hold back in…anything, in his actions or words, or, as it grew, his love for Loba. And Loba didn’t hold back in that realm, either.

It wasn’t until they were on the roof of her penthouse and he was watching her light off illegal fireworks, grinning like a madwoman, that he realized that previous statement might have been slightly wrong. She came up to him with two mortars, asking him to choose, and he did, watching her walk back to the launching platform. _I think,_ he thought as she lit the fuse, ran back to him laughing, beaming like the sun, _I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again._

When he let that hold go, the firework light flooded his lungs, and he thought there was no better feeling in the world.


End file.
